Anguish
by xxTheInsaneOnexx
Summary: Matt and Mello had been together forever. But Mello couldn't reach out to him-couldn't find out what he was thinking.


When Matt said the words 'I can't do this anymore,' I didn't quite catch it. My mind was far before my body, and I kept my hands wrapped around his thin waist, my lips on his. Yet my lips seemed to note the distance-the difference in him tonight opposed to other nights. I pulled back, and as it finally occurred to me what he had said, I looked him in the eyes. His eyes were dead and lifeless; a look I had never seen in Mail before.

"You can't do what anymore?" I pulled my body in closer, not willing to let my arms untangle themselves from around him. He didn't pull away, but just lie there limply. If I had fucked something up, the least he could do was give me a signal: but no, he just lie like nothing mattered.

Something was wrong.

"Matt..." My naked body move against his, as if trying to stimulate some sort of reaction, "What the Hell is it now? Are you still pissed at me for-"

I stopped mid sentence, as I found Matt sitting up, glancing nervously away. His heart pound in his pale chest. He pulled some cigarettes off the table next to the bed and lit one without a single ounce of worry. I cocked my head slightly-

Something was very wrong.

"You and I..." He took a deep breath, the butt sticking out of his lips stained with the taste of chocolate, "I can't do it anymore."

You and I. Me and him. So this was it? What the Hell was it?

Before I knew what happened, I stood up, my hands bared into fists. The yells permenated through the air, breaking the silence of the night. "You can't fucking do it anymore? Do what? This?" Our lips met, yet spitefully, and I was surprisingly the one who pulled back.

Matt was speechless- as I damn well knew he should be, after all, his parents weren't two bedrooms down the hall. It would be both our asses in trouble now, and what would he do? Plead with his Mommy for forgiveness?

"I can't lie like this,"

I laughed, a strange chuckle which split my glare into a sort of sadistic smirk, (which seemed to scare Matt quite a bit, as he backed away,) "You can't lie? Says the man who goes by a false name, who hacks into the government just to get extra cash to get himself a car?" I turned away, finding my pants abandoned on the floor and sliding them on, the tight leather seeming to make my tense muscles more apparent, "You just don't want your precious Mommy to get angry with you for being a faggot~"

The punch he landed on my face was surprisingly hard, and sent me stumbling backwards, trying to find my footing and eventually discovering it. When I found Matt's eyes, they were tear filled, streaming down underneath his maroon bangs. "That's not fucking true."

Time went slowly-every movement of Matt's seemed elevated to an inhuman level, more immaculate somehow. I rolled my eyes, finally bringing my eyes to rest on Matt's, "Then what about what you said before? 'I'll always love you Mello...'"

Matt didn't say anything for a moment, glancing away toward his feet, sniffling and wiping away his tears. Pitiful. But I was incapable of empathy, for every inch of my body was shaking with anger. Who in their god damn right mind fucks someone and then says 'It's over' after being together for three years?

"I still..."

I approached the bare, shivering red head, who had collapsed on his bed in an unmanageable fit of tears and whimpers. "You still what? Love me?"

I stood there for what seemed like hours, staring down at his body as he attempted to wipe away the tears from his pale, lightly freckled cheeks. It took a minute, but soon enough he came to his feet, looking me right in the eyes. That lifeless was gone now, and in that emerald abyss lie something else; fear.

"Maybe I never fucking loved you! Maybe you're a selfish little bitch who doesn't understand what anyone but your own damn self is going through!"

That was it. I punched him in the cheek, sending pain surging through my hand due to the force. He gasped out in pain, and grabbed his cheek, caressing it in hopes that would make it better.

"Oh GOD your life is just so god damn miserable, isn't it? You come home every night to a mother and father who would do anything for you, you jack off every night to all that porn you download on your brand new laptops, and fall asleep curled up next to your mother fucking X-Box controller!" The words spewed out of my mouth faster then they processed in my mind, "Yeah, your family is crazy, yeah, you can't be yourself, but y'know what?" I turned away quickly, glaring back at him through my bangs, luckily, hiding my sadness. "At least you've GOT a fucking family!"

The door slammed behind me. I didn't turn back to get my clothes, and I didn't give a second look back as Matt's mother came running in, wanting to know what the Hell had just happened. I didn't stop when Matt's father blocked the door way, wanting an explanation for what I was doing in their house. On the contrary, I forced my way through him, pushing him toward the wall opposite and leaving the house without a single second thought.

Looking on it now, maybe I should have looked back. Maybe I should have explained the situation.

No use dwelling on it now, after all that's happened.

I tried calling. The guilt built up quicker than usual in my gut, and left me feeling nauseous and sick. It wasn't normal for him to pick up; but after at least the twentieth time Matt would give in and come over, and we would have a nice little apology fuck. But this wasn't like that: something had happened in Matt that I hadn't seen. Something had snapped within my fianc?.

I knew however, when I called one last time, that I had to do something more extreme. The phone line had been disconnected, ringing a tone in my ear. His mother had something to do with this; did she change his number? Did the word finally get out that we had been evading them for years, and had even been planning our wedding?

So one night, lying in my bed alone, stained with cigarette burns and stains of love, I had made my mind up. The next morning, I fought myself into a suit, (or what could resemble one, as you were going to have a hard time finding something without chains or leather in some way in my wardrobe,) and bought some roses at the store.

Now fuck you, I'm not the sensitive type. Matt is the one who usually comes crying to me about something or another; something going wrong in church or his dad cracking another joke about gays. I was always his support system. But even the strongest people know when they sincerely fucked up; and every moment I spent away from Matt was putting drain on my whole existence.

I stood at the window, not wanting to approach the front door for fear of who would open it, and knocked four times, trying to peer through the cracks in the curtains. A pause. No answer. No sign of movement whatsoever; yet I knew Matt was there, the white glow of television shone through the curtains, and so I tried again.

And then tried to talk with him.

"Matt...I'm sorry ok? I really am...Now will you please be kind enough to give me some sign of life?"

I fidgeted nervously in place with the collar of my shirt-how the fuck people could go around dressed like this was beyond me.

"Answer now, or I swear to God I'm coming in there and I'm going to make you accept my apology. How often do you hear me apologize, Matt?"

I was getting pissed off, as my temper usually got the best of me, and attempted to open the window myself. It was surprisingly left open, and it slid up with no problem. I climbed through the window pane, straining to get the bouquet with me, but eventually found myself standing in an empty room with a television playing to no one. I blinked.

Matt never left his room, and whenever he did he certainly didn't leave his game without pausing it- his character continued to die and die again while being killed and reincarnated by a boss. I sighed, glancing toward the closed door for some hope that he would show his face; but it was simply a door.

Signs of life were somehow lacking: It seemed in the two months since that night the trash had somehow miraculously picked itself up, and the faint smell of cigarettes was gone. His bed was made, and it seemed a normal room once more. But not the room that I had known. It had a certain emptiness to it; like a room one would see when going on a tour of a house you're thinking to buy; no one inhabits it, it's just there for looks.

Regardless, I knew it had to be his, for after looking under the bed I found stacks and stacks of magazines and toys they had experimented on. He smiled a little, solemnly, and stood up again: to the amazement of a certain red head.

"Mell-Me-Mello..."

His eyes weren't covered by those outrageously sized goggles anymore, and instead, having replaced them, were glasses.

I tried to laugh, yet my heart was pounding against my ribs, telling me to embrace him and kiss him right there, and made it awkward. How could it even be audible over the pounding

"I never even knew you needed glasses, Matt...That would've been nice to know."

Before I had a moment to think though, my body was slammed against the wall opposite as his body was against mine. His lips locked with mine, and lacked the taste of cigarettes; it taste sort of dull. In fact, I was so busy investigating why Matt tasted as he did that I didn't realize he was slowly moving me to the window. I noticed before he had pushed me through the window however, and pulled him away from myself, sad to make the moment end.

"Matt, what the bloody hell is going on? Why are you-"

He kissed me again, and this time it felt like I was going to choke; he seemed to try to shove a lifetime of emotions into one small, thirty-second long kiss. When he pulled back, he plucked one of the roses from the bouquet in my hand, and smiled lightly, holding it tight in his hands. The roses had not had the thorns removed, and thusly blood began to run down his hand. I tried to help, taking his hands in mine, but his eyes drew me away.

"I love you Mello."

"I-I..."

He had pushed me through the window, or at least gotten half of my body through, the rest came with gravity, and I stared back through the open window.

"I love you, and I'm sorry."

The window slammed shut, and the curtains came to a close. I lost all sight of Matt, and was left with the final expression he gave me as I lost all contact with him.

I looked down to the roses in my hand, missing one from its perfect bouquet, and then to the window again. No movement again, and that lifelessness fell upon me again. It overwhelmed me, the meeting and the kiss, and the confusion. As to this, I was unable to come up with words. I was unable to speak, and just stuttered something incoherent, before silencing myself. Yet confusion coincide with anger, and like that I had thrown the roses down upon the ground. I cursed- not at anyone, or anything, but I cursed to God and to everything.

I left, and when I came back the next day the roses were gone, and so was Matt.

Life had gone alright, or at least as alright as it could have gone, in the five years since it had all happened. I hadn't heard any word of Matt or seen him since that faithful spring night. He hadn't left my mind, but he didn't consume it either. I moved on, at least in a matter of speaking. I now run the mafia, or at least am near the top. I got through it, and was god damn doing my best in this world.

Then the letter came, asking me to come to Mail Jeevas and Ella Swanson's wedding. Addressed to Mihael Keehl.

No one, no one knew my name other than Matt, and how exactly Matt had got my information was beyond me; but regardless I got the letter in my inbox saying it was a month and a half away. In winter right after Christmas. How cute, I could vomit. Yet nausea was something much beyond my comprehension at the moment, and I just stood on the spot. I held the invitation tight in my hand, as if that would reassure me that it was real, and finally collapsed on the bed.

Wedding. Matt. To a girl.

Tears finally found their way down my cheeks after nearly fifteen years, and I was unable to stop them. My body was hit with so much powerful emotion that I wasn't capable of doing anything except sit there and weep like a little child. I wasn't thinking anything; all I could think was of the ring that still sat on my finger, that still gave off my devotion for the man who broke off all ties with me.

I took it in my hand and flung it to the ground with a bout of insensibility, and heard it hit the ground through the sounds of my crying. What did I expect? I hadn't heard from Matt in years, and it was a given he would move on and find someone else. But I hadn't found anyone yet: and certainly not a girl.

Maybe that was what it was all about? Maybe Matt had been in love with someone else all along, and when she found out he tried to break it off with me. The little fucker was a bisexual player. It all passed through my mind at breakneck pace, and I took it all in and combined it, trying, desperately, to see sense in my insanity.

At least he had the courtesy to drop me an invite to the biggest fucking night of his life: a night that would have belonged to us...and should have. I felt tears fall back down my face, yet sniffled, keeping them held back this time. I stood up, and looked to the ground in a search for the ring I had thrown.

It was nowhere on the immaculate floor: as I searched more and more I got more and more frantic, tipping over articles of furniture in the hopes of finding the tiny object. One of my men even came in, nervously asking what was up- at which point I shot him promptly in the knee, saying if he valued his life he'd get the fuck out.

Unsurprisingly, he did so.

Curse words flew from my mouth yet again, and I was at a loss as to where it could be; I had checked under every piece of furniture two-three times and checked the carpet, his bed- even in the direction I didn't throw it in, just in case. Yet nothing. No sign of it.

In fact, I was so busy looking I didn't notice, for quite a few hours, that it was lying on the bed, a gold light on a black landscape.

Of course I would never throw it in the first place; that was the only thing that connected me back to the world I refused to let go of. Tears found their way in my eyes again, and I slipped it on, holding my hand in a gentle embrace as if holding him, holding his warm body in my arms, holding his head in my lap, petting his hair...

I knew then that I loved Matt more than anything. I knew then that I had never gotten over him and never quite would. I knew that I would give anything to see him one more time, no matter what had to be sacrificed in myself to make that happen. I didn't care if he never loved me, and I didn't care if I was a forgotten old memory of his life.

I had to see him once more.

It was held in early January, in a quaint little church off in the middle of nowhere; leave it to Matt to pick such a beautiful place. I let my bike screech to a halt, and looked at those entering the church from across the street: it seemed everyone in L.A had shown up here with their entire family, packing into a tiny little chapel. I couldn't point out Matt in the crowd, (as I had little intention of actually attending the thing), and with a sigh locked my bike up in place across the street.

It wasn't every day someone in a tuxedo drove their motorcycle to a wedding. Especially the wedding of their old lover.

It was sort of funny, how alienated I was from these people. They all seemed much too stuck up to be seen dead with the likes of me, hidden in-between the crowds of people swarming in. Like a bee in a hive I moved through them, hiding the tiny present in my hands. I didn't need to sign in or anything; the crowd was so massive I was able to squeeze into the chapel with little problem. I swore, as I tried to find a seat, that I saw Matt's mother looking my way- I quickly glanced away, and felt her gaze on me: before it finally returned back to the front.

I had to admit, the scar on my face definitely differentiated me from who I had been five and a half years ago.

The procession began soon enough, and my heart probably skipped twenty beats as I saw that red head walk in through the door.

His head was down, glasses hiding those awkwardly huge green eyes behind maroon bangs. I strained my head to see him over the many people next to me, and was finally able to see his expression.

Solemnly, and without the faintest blush or smile, he walked down the isle, his arm wrapped around his mother-in-law-to-be. He hadn't changed much since I knew him, at least physically. That same awkward way he pronounced himself, the way his thin legs walked, like a dog with its tail between its legs: I'm sure no one else noticed but me that his personality was that of a totally different person.

He finally rested up on the altar, looking out to the group behind him. His eyes scanned the room, as if looking out his pray, without a hint of emotion on his face. I watched his eyes move slowly. And then his eyes rested on me.

There was nothing at first. Our eyes had met, and a bond between us had formed within just a second. He eyed my scar, (as most people did now-a-days) but I could tell he recognized me right away.

He smiled, and I felt my heart fall into my stomach, plummeting down with no hope of ever returning. His eye brows were furrowed in that look, whenever he was trying to fake a smile but it failed and you could tell the sadness in his eyes. I just stared back, our gazes saying what years of distance hadn't.

I had a boyfriend, and I was well over Matt by this point. He was a nice little fuck, a good conversationalist- yet as his gaze broke mine to the doorway, I couldn't help restraining a cry of anger.

That she-bitch, that demon who had taken my Matt away from me was strolling on the isle, her dress draped around her anorexic body. Her face was covered in a veil, hiding what probably could be described as disgustingly beautiful. I looked back at Matt, the sounds in the room going silent, and saw that faked smile once again, and I could tell then and there.

He didn't love her. Not one bit.

Just by the way she walked, I could tell where she was from. Rich family, probably schooled at the highest private school in the state. Always told she was beautiful and perfect, and had grown to think it was true. She seemed, in a laughable way, like a mirrored version of me.

What had I turned into?

A scarred man who had an inability to get over flings that were long past, who carried a gun in his pants just in case someone tried to jump him at all times?

Had I turned into such a fucking coward? Had Matt really stooped down to this level as well?

The world I had known was long gone at that point; the world where Mail Jeevas was willing to give up anything for me, the world where I thought I knew everything and thought I loved Mail Jeevas more than anything...

I wish more than everything that but the last were true.

Their hands met, and Matt tried to laugh, yet it came out awkward and nervous. I'm sure everyone else in the room found it to be embarrassment, and in some ways it was.

His eyes kept meeting mine throughout the whole procession, and that same look was in his eyes. In fact, I think his fianc?...Ella or something or another noticed it, for I saw her grip on Matt's hands tightened and he turned his face back to her's.

Then they kissed.

I said nothing. I thought nothing. I heard muffled cheers and weeping from the group around me, but felt I could hear the sound. Matt's soft lips meeting someone's other than mine, her breath fogging up his glasses.

It was fine.

I stood up as the two walked hand in hand, surrounded by cheering people, down the isle. It was brief what I did then. I wormed my way through the group, causing many people to turn my way, but I was tired of being just a shadow.

My feet stopped right in front of their way, causing the two to halt suddenly. All faces turned to me, and I heard Matt's wife mutter, "Excuse me?"

I smiled, and held out the little present in my hand. Matt's eyes had grown at least three times larger as his pale hand took the present from mine. Our hands touched for just a second, before retracting. The smile remained on my face, and I nodded.

"Congratulations Matt."

I turned, opened the door, and heard it close behind me to a completely silent chapel. I walked through the freezing cold to my motorcycle, and started it up, my eyes interestingly enough, dry.

He had finally caved in, and followed the path that his parents wanted him to. I drove off, and looked back, just for a split second, to see Matt staring there. He looked after me, and I looked back at him, and then ahead.

The world went about on its endless rotation, and people went on with their lives. Yet something had clicked within me. He still loved me. The little fucker still loved me, and I think more than ever. And so did I.

I really hope he liked my present. For that was the last time I ever saw him.

The funeral was held on June 17th, a beautiful day where not a cloud was in the sky. It was a decently quick funeral, and I saw some new faces that day. Standing nearest to the grave stood two decently similar children. Their hazel eyes were filled with tears, the oldest one of about five or so stood with his arm around the little girl, who held a small stuffed animal in her arms. Upon closer inspection I saw that it was a stuffed Link.

I chuckled.

People finally left, and again I seemed just a blank face in a crowd of people; the stream of black left, and the two children followed. I saw the two do a double take, as they turned around to look at me and then they talked amongst each other. A older man called the two, and they muttered a little 'be right there!' before walking up to me.

The grave was truly nothing special. Flowers were cluttered around the rim, white and amazing fake. Their pitiful attempts at empathy just mirrored my own feelings.

"Excuse me...are you Mister Mello?"

I looked up from my thoughts, and looked behind me, back to those two children. Their brilliant red hair reflected the light and caused me to flinch before anything. The youngest one looked up at me in awe, looking me up and down in a sort of amazement. The older one elbowed her in the ribs softly, and she shook her head, coming out of a daze.

I didn't say anything, but I didn't have to: they broke the awkward silence.

"Daddy wanted us to give you 'dis...Said it was very important 'wight...before he got 'weally sick."

The youngest one reminded me most of Matt, with the freckles that came out only in the summer. She had that same clumsy attitude, the same eyes. She dropped the doll for just a moment to hold out an envelope.

I took it.

I opened it.

"Ok well Mister, we gotta go..." The older one smiled up at me, and quickly took his sister's hand, trying to pull her away, "Thank you..."

They left then, and I was left alone by the marble grave standing amongst all the others. There wasn't much to read, really. But I didn't let my eyes leave that piece of paper for near two hours.

And then I began to cry.

It came slowly, the amount of small whimpers finally leading up to a full fledged attack. My legs fell out from under me, and I finally collapsed upon the grass. The sky was a deep, brilliant pink, and around me the city began to light up.

I don't know how long I kneeled there at his grave. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. Hell, it could have been days for all I know. I didn't care.

When I finally was able to calm myself down, I wiped the remainder of tears off my cheeks and looked down at the grave once more.

It was just a grave, and underneath it was left the man whom I once loved.

And in my hands was what was left of his love.

I smiled the tiniest bit, and turned the paper over to its blank side. It was hard to write in the dark, but I accomplished it.

I admired my work for the tiniest bit, and then folded it up once. I was done with grieving over what had happened.

I turned away and left, my feet crunching the grass underneath them and the gate slowly creaking open to reveal the rest of the world.

But not my world.

My world was far gone, and would only return in my wildest dreams.

So I am prepared for the longest dream ever.

One that lasts an eternity.

The next morning the grave keeper found a note amongst a pile of white flowers and one singular red rose. When he opened the note, it said just one sentence on either side.

'Will you go out with me?'

and on the back, it read,

'Sure, but you're treating.'

* * *

><p>;_; I cried so much while writing this, you have no idea. I'm working on writing one shots and not making fan fictions that go on forever! : D...It's not working.<p> 


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